


A Severe Case of SOH

by Jordan_Barber



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cuckolding, Deepthroating, Felching, Female Ejaculation, Femdom, Futanari, Huge Dick, Huge balls, Loli, Lolicon, Other, Parent/Child Incest, Prolapse, Rimming, Underage - Freeform, Verbal Humiliation, Watersports, excessive cum, musk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21989485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jordan_Barber/pseuds/Jordan_Barber
Summary: Jorge is horrified when the doctor tells him his daughter might have an incurable case of SOH. Is there anything he can do?
Comments: 12
Kudos: 116





	1. A Fraught Examination

"Juanita Ramirez?" called the kindly, middle-aged nurse near the counter.

Jorge and his daughter both looked up, he from his nervous avoidance of anyone else's eyes in the powerfully musky waiting room, she from her shoes. They both stood up and made their way over to the nurse, Nita a fair bit more reluctantly and bowlegged than her father. Jorge tried to ignore several pitying looks the other parents gave him.

"Juanita?" the nurse asked as they got closer. 

His daughter nodded, still looking down. She had her father's graceful features: beautiful, dusky brown skin and the straight black hair common to her lineage, grown traditionally long and braided down her back with a large, fluffy bow clipped at the top. They both had small frames, though her father's was much more muscled, if leanly so. Juanita also had full lips and a wide, ready smile under a delicate nose, long lashes and elfish ears. Until recently, she had been a normal, happy, bike-riding, sun-loving, book-crazy child. Jorge hated that her condition had slowly turned the normally ebullient little girl sadder and more reserved by the week.

"My name is Angela, I'm your nurse and I'll get the little stuff out of the way before the doctor sees you, okay?" She led them back through the halls to Room 12. It was like any exam room with the exception of an extra door inside and an obvious two-way mirror.

"That's an observation room," Angela informed him when she noticed the direction of his gaze. "Sounds like we might be making use of it today."  


She ran his daughter through the usual preliminary checks: blood pressure, temperature, heart rate, height, weight. All the while, Angela asked questions around the problem without ever touching on the issue: where did she go to school, what grade was she finishing up, did she have anything planned for summer vacation, did she have any kids in her neighborhood she liked to play with, any new allergies or other health problems besides Juanita's SOH. It was making Jorge twitch. He answered when his daughter couldn't.

"Well, all that's out of the way. So, you came in last year on, let's see here, looks like the fourth of September. Oh, so right at the beginning of third grade. That sound about right? Okay, then can you please remove your dress, honey? I've just got a few more measurements to take. We're just updating the progress of your condition."

His daughter stood and sighed, long and woeful, then slipped the straps off her narrow shoulders. She pushed the fluffy-skirted dress down her flat chest, then had to push harder as it reached her hips. Not because she had hips—at 9 years old, she was skinny as a rail, just like most of her classmates. The dress bunched up on the thick, trunk-like protuberance of her flopping, drooping cock and balls.

Angela had undoubtedly seen the effects of Spontaneous Onset Hermaphroditis on many adolescents, but even she couldn't help but widen her eyes at the girth and length of the little girl's cock or the swollen balls the size of her fists straining her hanging sack. The room quickly filled with the full strength of Nita's unique scent, a sweet and clinging petrichor, and both the nurse and Jorge took deep, involuntary breaths. 

The nurse finally tore her eyes from her subject and looked at the short fabric tape in her hand, realizing the child's size measuring tool wouldn't do in this case, then made embarrassed eye contact with Jorge. "Uh, I'll, um. I'll be right back. Just a moment." She clipped her own shoulder with the door on her way out in her awkward haste.

Juanita let out another long-suffering sigh. "Papà, I'm a freak. I can accept that."

Jorge closed his eyes, partly in sympathy, but mostly so he didn't have to see the massive genitals hanging between his daughter's skinny legs. "The doctor will know what's wrong, _mi hija_." 

"Do you think I _don't_ know what's wrong? You didn't fix it like you said you would. You promised."

Jorge cringed, knowing she was right. His guilt ran deep and strong, and for several long moments he thought he might vomit.

A brisk knock let Angela back in, the doctor trailing her. They both took the familiar involuntarily deep breaths. The doctor's eyes widened immediately with concern.

"How... How is it so advanced? Her testicles had barely begun to descend last I saw her!" She took the measuring tape from Angela and knelt in front of Juanita. 

Doctor Liana Teeuw was confidently wearing low heels despite being abnormally tall for a woman, much less an Indonesian woman, so she had to bend even further to get close enough to read the small numbers. Seeing a stunning, grown woman kneel in front of such a girthy, swarthy prick and balls was perverse enough, but that they were attached to a child was mind-bendingly disconcerting for Jorge.

"Body circumference, eleven and a half centimeters. Glans circumference, twelve and a half centimeters. Length, twenty-four centimeters. My... goodness. The testicles are large enough to weigh, now. Angela, please get the scale. Foreskin length..."

She maintained her diagnostic chatter with the nurse as Jorge mentally converted the numbers to inches. Four and a half, five, and nine and a half inches respectively. Basically, almost exactly double the size of his own erect penis. 

But Juanita was completely flaccid.

"Mr. Ramirez, you came in here almost nine months ago. She had barely more than an engorged clitoris at that point. There is only one way known to reverse this condition! Have you not been administering it to your daughter?"

"Of course I have been!" His face burned and his stomach turned with shame at the memory. "I've been trying every day. I... I started as you said, with," he couldn't meet anyone's eyes, "I used only my finger to massage her, at first. But she kept growing."

"Yes, of course, and when you called me, I told you that has been known to happen in some cases. It is a matter of inertia."

He was stuttering, incapable of responding. Nita looked judgingly at him, then back at the doctor as she continued to rant over his useless spluttering. 

"Sometimes the growth is too fast to be slowed by pressure on the budding prostate alone. Did you not try the treatment for Severe SOH? I told you, you must trigger both a physiological and psychological submission response! Administered properly, she should have begun shrinking within a couple weeks! How often were you penetrating her?"

He stared, open-mouthed at her. "Please! I am a God-fearing man! This is my daughter!" He hid his face with his hands and sobbed, dry, wracking, and pathetic.

"He tried to put his penis in my butt every day, Doctor." The words sounded flat, emotionless, and too high from her little voice. "Sometimes twice a day. And he _always_ cries like this." Jorge cringed and continued crying, hearing his daughter describe the utterly inappropriate state of things.

The nurse and doctor shared a glance. Angela, who had been earnestly breathing the aphrodisiac miasma rising from Nita, exhaled shakily. "And did he... ejaculate inside you, Juanita?"

The little girl scoffed. "He hasn't gotten fully hard the last two months. I even heard mommy complain once. He came the very first time but hasn't been able to since then."

Angela inhaled, mostly out of shock this time.

"And what about you, Juanita? Did you ejaculate?"

The girl nodded, resigned. "I've been coming for months, but only after Papà gives up. Mommy tells me I come too much."

Nurse Angela asked, a barely contained note of panic in her voice, "your mother? How is she involved?"

Nita shrugged. "She's been supervising for a while, now. She said Papà must not be doing it right because I keep growing. She got annoyed with me the first time I came. I ruined the couch. Now I have to wear condoms. I hate them, and sometimes they break 'cause I fill them too much. I don't think I should anymore."

"Oh, no." Doctor Teeuw abruptly stood and opened the door to the observation room, pulling a twenty-liter bucket from the other side. She placed it on the floor in front of her patient. "Did you hold your urine like you were asked to before you came? Could you urinate right now, Juanita? I need to run some more tests."

Nita nodded. "I didn't go to the bathroom at all this morning."

"Okay, good. When you're done, cover the bucket with this lid and make sure it screws all the way tight." Liana turned to Jorge. "Mr. Ramirez, you and Angela follow me to the observation room. I have several things I need to say to you while we give her privacy."

Jorge knuckled his eyes and followed the two women into the other room.

As soon as the door was closed behind him, the doctor rounded on him, eyes burning with intensity. "You have created the exact conditions needed to turn your daughter into a monster, Mr. Ramirez."

His heart dropped into his stomach and he subconsciously backed up against the door.

"SOH can hit any female differently, it's not so bad if they've gone through puberty before it's contracted, but you made it worse during pre-pubescence. You edged, you failed to even marginally dominate her, and you humiliated yourself in front of her and a third party. And your _wife_ of all people. This is an emergency. That virus is changing her brain as we speak, she's already thinking of you as insufficient. It could trigger her pituitary gland at any moment, flooding her brain with a virally modified hormone cocktail, and she will become your worst nightmare."

Liana realized she was pinning him with a finger in his chest and took a deep breath as she stepped back. A microphone in the other room's ceiling was picking up the sound of a heavy liquid flow, the sound coming through speakers above them. Recently, he had heard her flushing the toilets at home from the strength and volume of her pissing into it.

"I apologize for getting carried away. But this is the most severe case this clinic has ever seen. Truly, Mr. Ramirez, you could not have made this situation any more dangerous without begging her to _fuck_ you. Goodness! She's got me all riled up. I do apologize. I'm finding it hard to be professional." She leaned on the counter under the glass, peering into the room. "Look at your daughter."

Jorge breathed, jittery, as he turned to the window. He gave a sharp intake of breath when he saw his daughter's glowering countenance on the other side. She seemed to glare straight at him as she pissed a heroic, impossible stream into the bucket. From his angle, he could see the level begin to froth higher as she filled it in an endless, splattering current. Her little hand looked doll-like as it held the perverted length of foreskin back from her wide mushroom-head. Her piss-hole was at least as big around as her thumb.

"You have a time-bomb on your hands, Mr. Ramirez. This whole situation, what I have to tell her in a bit, I wouldn't be surprised if the process completes tonight. She's that close. It was a risk to even give her this chance at exhibition. It's just one more way to dominate."

"What can we do?" he asked, adrift in misery. Nita's discharge was finally weakening, just as the piss bubbles, large and constantly popping as the liquid sloshed, were reaching the rim.

"In my opinion, all we can do is mitigate the damage. I'll get that sample tested and give you an emergency referral to the foremost specialist. Luckily for you, she's based here so your answer will be quick. But... Well I fear her answer will be no different."

In the next room, Nita flopped her dick at the bucket. It was nearly charming she worried about the last few drops when the splashback had already spattered the floor copiously.

"What... what do I do, then? What happens to her now?"

The doctor and the nurse explained, finishing the other's sentences when one halted, disjointedly, increasingly transfixed by Nita.

"We must wait several minutes for the fumes to dissipate. They would be too overwhelming this close to the change."

Nita finished running a finger over the fat tube on the underside of her member and then let her foreskin envelop the end of her cock again. It dangled like an empty worm. Jorge had always found her genitals to be disconcerting, bordering on horrific in their increasing virility—all the more because they were attached to such a petite frame. 

"After that, we go in and inform her of the next steps we'll take..." 

The grade-schooler walked over to consider the lid of the bucket, finally affixed it, then gave the bucket a testing heft and obviously found it too much to lift.

Watching the medical professionals' pupils dilate as they viewed his daughter was giving Jorge anxiety. Almost frantic, he asked, "but what will happen to her?"

"She'll get angry." Angela turned to him and Jorge couldn't help but think she looked excited at the thought. "And then she's going to take control!" 

A powerful shudder galloped down his spine.

Juanita dragged the bucket over to the door of the observation room, her struggle with the near 40-pound bucket audible within. Jorge spun to the door as she turned the handle and saw nobody had locked it. Before he could stop it, the door opened and her scent along with an invisible cloud of piss musk, more potent than the smell of her genitals for its freshness, flowed in. It was made twice as bad when she bent to open the bucket back up, the primary source of the smell was exposed. It punched him in the nose and the doctor and nurse both gasped aloud.

"I filled your stupid tub," she said, haughtily. Jorge had never before imagined an exit so effectively blocked by a grade-schooler. "Are you still ogling me, or can I put my clothes back on? It's cold in here. My nipples are like tacks."

"Nita! Don't say such—oof!"

Jorge crumpled, cradling the testicles just tenderized by his daughter's fist.

"That was from Mom. She said if the doctors couldn't help me, it was all your fault. I wish I'd saved some piss for you, _maricòn_. Maybe when we get home." She turned to walk back into the exam room but stopped. "The floor has pee all over it. One of you pick me up and put me on the table so I can get dressed."

Angela quickly stepped over the girl's father and scooped her up like a frail little bride.

"Well?" the girl demanded when the nurse paused. "Are you going to just stand there drooling over my cock?"

Angela quickly moved the girl to the table. The girls' little feet crinkled the paper as she waited for the nurse to bring her dress lying folded on the chair. Doctor Teeuw didn't even consciously realize she stepped over the still groaning father as she leaned in the doorway to fawn over Juanita's perfect body. They were both of darker skin, one with red and the other with yellow undertone, as well as sharing long, glossy black hair. Big, brown eyes, thin build, long limbs and delicate bones. The doctor had a brief daydream watching the little girl pull the dress over her head that she could have been her own fierce, beautiful daughter in another life.

The nurse was standing right next to her, doing her utmost to keep her hands off the girl. When Juanita noticed, she glared down at her. "Do you need something?"

So long exposed and so near to the scent wafting from under her skirts, Angela only moaned, biting her lip. The little girl noticed. "You look like a whore. And you're too ugly. Hmph." She looked at the doctor, similarly entranced by the lolita standing before her. "You're much prettier. Make yourselves useful. I'm too backed up, and I don't want to use anymore stupid condoms."

She hiked up her skirt and waggled her girthy length at the doctor. "C'mon. Hurry up."

Doctor Teeuw crossed the space in a blink, the base of the obscenely dangling genitals right at eye level. She looked up into the little girl's eyes and quivered when she saw cruelty poised there.

 _Well_ , the doctor thought to herself, _I guess we did push her over the edge._

Then, as the little girl presented the puckered tip of her drooping foreskin for a kiss, the doctor thought, _and thank god for that!_

Juanita moaned, and Liana blushed. She'd cured many cases in the short history of her private practice, but so far had only read about this second stage of the disease. She knew the pheromones were doing a number on her frontal lobe, inhibiting her impulse control as well as stimulating her hypothalamus to crank out hormones with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption. She had read of the effects, but none of the literature had ever explained just how good it felt. It felt _right_ to slurp the flopping skin into her mouth and suck on it like a straw. It felt gratifying to satisfy her taste buds by sliding her long tongue beneath the extra skin and sample the flavor of the covered organ. It felt proper to challenge her own physical limits and pull the wide, mushrooming head into her mouth with a cheek-hollowing vacuum. She was rewarded further with another moan from her patient as the girl placed her hands on the back of the professional's head and bid her deeper.

Nita bent over the doctor's head as the woman sucked on her fuck rod. "Yes. That's better." She turned and saw the nurse watching her boss with rapt attention and reached back to grab a handful of her hair, as well. "You're staring like a retard. Get your stupid tongue up my asshole." She bent a little more as she shoved the other woman's head between her narrow cheeks.

Jorge finally managed to rise to his knees and feared how his eyes might confirm what his ears were telling him. He felt his face turn white as the blood rushed from his head, making him feel faint.

His little Nita had clawed the nurse's hair out of its bun, grabbing a lopsided double-fistful and tugging like reins. She was scrubbing Angela's face with her ass, the tendons on her forearms standing out as she pulled ruthlessly. In front of her, the doctor was making love to the girl's pisshole, moaning while tonguing the wide opening then letting the foreskin cover it again so she could slurp on the hanging flesh.

" _¡Santo dios! Mi hija_ , please." He crawled forward, heedless of the pee splatters. He felt weak, not just from the unique effects of testicular trauma, but from the dual miasmas rising off Juanita's crotch and her heady piss. His head felt foggy, his thinking slow and shallow. His muscles were wobbly as if atrophied. He felt like a strong wind could blow him over.

Juanita glared into Liana's rapturous face. "Shut that worthless faggot up or you don't get anything."

Jorge looked fearfully up at the now fierce countenance of the doctor. "Please, help my daughter. She doesn't underst—augh!" She stepped on him until his face hit the wet floor with a splat. Her heel ground into his cheek.

"Stick out your tongue," she stepped on him harder until he poked his tongue out. "Now make yourself useful and clean the floor."

With her annoying sperm donor now occupied, and the nurse learning to keep her mouth firmly fastened around her patient's puckered asshole, Nita could focus on what she wanted. First, she wiped away Liana's pathetic, simpering smile by battering the doctor's mouth open with her fat prick. Then she hauled on the back of her head as hard as she could, burying herself in the doctor's graceful throat. The girl could feel her victim's gorge rise, but her girth completely blocked her passage and Doctor Teeuw was forced to swallow her bile back down. She struggled, placing her hands on Nita's thighs to try and catch a breath, but the girl put one forearm under her skull while the other rained down brutal punches on the back of her head.

Eventually, battered and faint from lack of oxygen, as well as increasingly muddled by the pheromones, the doctor submitted to having her throat resized. As soon as she began going limp, Nita yanked her head back with a double handful of hair.

"You want my cum, don't you, stupid?" she growled, managing to make her high voice menacing. The doctor only gasped, brainlessly.

Nita hauled back and slapped her as hard as she could. Liana reeled, then was realigned to have her face stuffed again, the fat cock covered in throat slime and bitter bile shoved right back down. She retched, to the same effect as before, then was pushed back to look up into her abuser's face.

"You're supposed to be so smart. But you're just a pedophile retard addicted to girl cock. Aren't you!"

Liana nodded but was slapped again for her trouble, then jammed full of dick again.

The fight was completely gone from the woman, so Nita began fucking her face. Her abdomen crashed into the professional's small nose while her big balls slapped the underside of her chin. Angela was forced to hold on to the girl's hips to keep her lips and tongue sucking on and diving into her asshole while the doctor's head was pulled into Nita's crotch hard enough to bounce the nurse back.

Juanita could feel the approach as her balls tingled and tightened against her body. With one final, savage tug, she hilted herself in the doctor's throat and unloaded. Her shitpipe puckered open and sucked on Angela's tongue while being sucked in turn by the nurse's hungry lips.

Jorge looked up, bleary eyed, his face dripping with the piss he'd been licking up, when he heard his daughter howling in release. This close, he could _hear_ her body pumping the doctor full. Teeuw's throat was taut around an impossible swell, the front of her neck rhythmically bulging with the contents of Juanita's thick cumvein. The doctor's eyes rolled back in her head as she was filled, Nita humping her face and groaning throughout her orgasm as if it hurt. 

Liana slumped down unconsciously, and Jorge just barely caught her head before it hit the floor. A long, unbroken, looping rope of cum as wide as his fingers landed on her cheek, ear, neck and shoulder. He looked up to see his daughter turning swiftly, one hand jerking her massive cock while the other controlled Angela's head. Juanita jammed her cock against her right nostril and fired another huge rope, sending the nurse into a coughing fit, only for her to jam it against the other nostril for the next shot. Then she pulled her head back and slopped the last of her cum onto the woman's face. She covered her eyes and forehead with slimy ropes until it looked like one solid blast of curdling yogurt.

"Aaah," the little girl sighed as Angela went to her hands and knees to clear her sinuses of the painful blockage.

She was almost panting as she surveyed her work, her brown skin glistening with sweat as she considered the human wreckage. The nurse was coughing so hard she was intermittently dry heaving. Doctor Teeuw was passed out, cum dribbling from the corner of her mouth onto Jorge's hand, and there was a subtle swell in the tall woman's abdomen, as if she had eaten particularly well. Which Juanita supposed she had.

Her father was breathing as hard as she was, covered in her piss.

"Revolting," she judged, pulling her dress down properly. "Get me my shoes and clean these whores up. I'll get my _self_ home."

* * * * *

Jorge stood on the front step of his house for almost half an hour before he got the nerve to open the door. He could hear moaning inside. How twisted his life had become that he hoped it was somebody blasting pornography at an inappropriate volume.

But he knew it wasn't.

He went inside. His wife's voice, loudly complimenting the size of somebody's _fat_ cock, drifted down from upstairs. She had never spoken during sex, finding it to be offputtingly crude. Once, her breathy moans as they made frantic love had been his music. How freakish his life had become, how utterly nightmarish, that as he climbed the stairs to their room, he hoped to find another man in his marital bed. A marital bed they'd shared since just after high school. A marital bed they'd conceived their daughter in. As he stumbled like a somnambulist down the hall, past Juanita's closed door, he prayed that when he entered his room, he would find his wife was cheating on him with another man.

But he knew he wouldn't.

Guadalupe Ramirez was bent at the waist over the foot of the bed, clutching the duvet with her outstretched hands. Her head was craned back, pulled by her long hair, as Juanita was using it and her feet planted on either side of her mother's wide hips to balance on the corner of the mattress. She was using all her weight to swing down and in to her mother's pelvis in a crashing arc, sending the woman's meaty butt jiggling with the impact and her thick thighs trembling with pleasure. The little girl's nutsack slapped heavily into her mother's clit like a doubled wrecking ball.

"Lupe..." he managed, limply.

If they heard him, they ignored him.

Nita slammed into her again and her mother screamed, squirming suddenly and violently. Nita hopped gracefully back and a bit to the side to watch her mom's hips hitching, humping air as thick, white lubricant burst from her hairy pussy with a vulgar, belching _BLOOP—BLOORP_. He noticed there was a mess down the side of the mattress and inside either thigh of the same goopy femcum, and a pile of it between her feet, thick enough to rest atop the carpet but obviously being added to for long enough to begin soaking into it.

With dull eyes, he looked at his daughter, who had noticed he was home. She had a nasty grin on her face as she met his eyes. His gaze slid down her body, over her flat chest, the muscles around her navel only visible due to low body fat. Her slim hips and thighs, and between, jutting like a fort cannon, was her nearly foot long cock and at least a pound of testicles. They were coated in the same creamy girl jizz as had just been expelled from his wife's gaping cunt.

He'd seen it before, his wife's ability to secrete her thick pussy juice, but only in the rarest of occasions, when the sexual stars aligned. It would coat his average penis and drip down his balls at her climax.

But this was a _pool_ of the stuff. There was five times as much in this one instance as he'd seen in the last fifteen years with her combined.

"I'm thirsty. And it looks like my bitch could use some more fluids before I give her mine. Go get us some water."

He stood, mouth agape like a fish. Lupe turned her head—still panting and her muscles randomly hitching in orgasm aftershocks—and spied him over her shoulder.

"Jorge... you worthless... asshole."

"Lupe, I-I'm so sorry. She's not herself, the doctor—"

"Not herself? She's her... _perfect_ self." Her head fell back to the mattress. "I've never felt so fucking _good_. Her monster fucking dick, her huge fucking balls, they feel soouuugh— _God!_ " She had another orgasm right there, just from thinking about getting fucked. Her still-gaping inner walls clenched around a phantom insertion.

"You can't mean that! It's just the pheromones! There may still be a cure for Juanita."

Her mini-orgasm jittered to a stop and she turned again, this time rising to one elbow to squarely look him in the eye. "You think I could ever go back to a tiny, limp-dick faggot like you? Your daughter, a little _girl_ has made me cum more than you could in the next fifty years. I'm a fucking slut for her giant underage cock, Jorge."

Juanita had apparently lost her patience, for she climbed on the bed and shoved her cock in her mother's face with a casual, "clean me, whore." She turned to her father, once her other parent began slurping and sucking up and down the broad length of her like a ten-dollar hooker. "Go get water. I've got two more holes to resize."

Jorge found himself downstairs, filling two large glasses from the fridge dispenser. And then he found himself in the corner of his room, on a chair that usually held laundry en route to somewhere useful, watching his wife be plowed by a prepubescent hermaphrodite. Lupe kept making a slimy mess until Juanita came, flooding her mother's womb and then the mattress as the overflow oozed out like yellow-white mud. Nita stood over her mother's raised butt, letting the last of her long orgasm flow off her tip, into the top of Lupe's asscrack, then down the slope of her spine.

She turned to him. "That's all you get to eat now, faggot. Her slops or mine. You can lick it off the floor or suck it out of the sheets. This cunt is mine, now. She's just a cunt for me to fuck. Her _name_ is Cunt, because that's all she is to me. _Nobody_ touches my Cunt for any reason. Got it?"

He nodded, dazed. He didn't even feel a part of reality anymore.

What could he do?

* * * * *

A week later, Jorge wore women's underwear at all times. When he wasn't at work, he was home—in _only_ his underwear—fetching and carrying for his daughter and her Cunt, cleaning up after their sex with his mouth.

Lupe—Cunt—never wore clothes anymore. She groomed her pussy into a cute landing strip, but nothing could pretty up her backside. Most of the time her shitter hung out from between her wide cheeks like a windsock because of how often Nita filled her ass with her fat dick. The insane prolapse wobbled and flopped, constantly dripping cum that Jorge followed behind to clean up after each anal session until the inflammation went down enough she could push it back inside. 

His wife was officially Cunt, but they rarely bothered to even address him anymore. If they did, it was only as Faggot or _Maricòn_. In addition to being the laundry machine, he also became the house urinal. It was all he was allowed to drink. He preferred his wife's waste. Nita nearly drowned him every time as he almost instantly overfilled but had to sit there and endure her endless stream.

It was another two weeks, when Summer break officially started, that a thought suddenly pierced through the pheromone fog in his mind.

There had been a specialist. Hadn't Doctor Teeuw said she was nearby?

Jorge rose from the chair in the corner and left the room, completely ignored by the rutting figures on his bed, and went downstairs.

He had a call to make.


	2. A Warm Meal

Jorge sat at the table and marveled at the smell of the bacon that his wife Lupe… that Cunt was cooking. The notorious sizzle and pop accompanied the heavenly smell, strong enough to momentarily mask the now ubiquitous Juanita musk that flooded the house, and he enjoyed it as much as he could. He wouldn’t be eating any of it, of course. He had his own meal right in front of him, his wife providing it a few minutes before.  


It was a bowl of clumpy, chowdery cum, still bowel-hot from when she’d squatted onto the floor and hovered over the bowl to shit it out. He’d watched her tube-like prolapse dangle down and wobble with the expulsion that overflowed the bowl and slopped down the sides. The pool of excess cum was still laying on the linoleum, the negative space where the bowl had been was still perfectly round as the cum was far too thick to run together.  


It smelled terrible. Nita’s first ejaculation of the day always did, as if the extra thick wad in her balls fermented overnight. As a first-hand expert, Jorge could see his daughter’s nightmare biology changing over the weeks. Her dick hadn’t gotten any larger, but it had gotten more veiny, her foreskin longer and thicker, but most noticeably her cum had gotten more horrifying as the days passed. Her fat dick _burped_ long, greasy loads with intermittent blasts of coagulated ballsnot he had to chew to be able to swallow and not gag on, and they were only getting more copious and more frequent.  


Sometimes Juanita got tired of seeing him laying on the floor beside the bed—on the dog bed she’d made him buy—and sent him out of the room so she could “fuck the Cunt in peace”. He’d spend the next noisy couple of hours downstairs on the desktop, researching the condition. He’d found a forum for family members of those affected by SOH. It was conspicuously devoid of female members, and he found depressingly little relief in reading there were hundreds more fathers and grandfathers, brothers and cousins, uncles and neighbors affected by cases like his daughter’s. If anything, he could only dread some of the advancing symptoms Juanita shared with some of the situations he read about.  


The specialist had been no help at all. Her receptionist, after gathering Jorge’s information, had patched him through to Dr. Vanessa Vandeberg and it sounded like she answered the phone in the middle of a jujitsu sparring session. She grunted and panted while another voice further away did the same. She’d been incredibly unprofessional, hardly listening to his plight, rudely interrupting him with impatient questions, and to top it off at the end of his explanation she’d said he sounded “like a sad little bitch”. She’d told him she was busy for the next week and then hung up on him.  


But then that very morning, he’d been woken up by her phone call. They all had been, and Jorge had to pretend it was Doctor Teeuw from the clinic. Juanita had spit at him and rolled over to go back to sleep. But the news had been exciting.  


Finally, his life would be normal again. He could stop wearing the lacy underwear he was in. He could field questions about his home life when he was at work without having to lie. He could show his face in church once more.  


Jorge smiled down at his lumpy breakfast, the last bowl of cum he’d ever have to eat. Then his stomach rumbled, protesting its emptiness, and he raised the bowl to his lips.  


His long, starving swallows turned into a choke as he heard his daughter suddenly yelling.  


“What the fuck is this, Faggot?!” He and Cunt both looked to see Juanita with a foot in the pile of cum on the kitchen floor. “Why haven’t you eaten your meal?”  


“But I am eating!” He cringed that he’d raised his voice in defense, and then another, ever smaller part of him wailed at his first reaction.  


She noticed his bowl and her frown turned into a glower. She looked at her mother. “You gave him a bowl to eat out of? He should be eating off the floor like the worthless pig he is. No, shut up!” she yelled to stop Cunt from replying. “I’m so sick of you idiots getting everything wrong. Turn around and finish my breakfast.”  


Cunt meekly turned back to the stove then yelped as Juanita jammed her little fist into her prolapsed asshole, pushing it back between her cheeks, shoving her arm in up to the elbow. Juanita opened her hand and swabbed around a couple times to snag the clingiest, stickiest clumps of cum, then tore her hand back out, pulling the prolapse right back out along with another runnel of nearly jellied cum to splat onto the floor. Cunt’s knees almost buckled and she moaned in ecstasy, fully devoid of any parental instinct whatsoever, much less the most basic sense of propriety.  


Jorge boggled, wide-eyed, as his diminutive daughter marched toward him, her massive cock and balls banging off her thin thighs. She stepped up next to him and wound back, and he found himself completely incapable of defending himself from the wet slap that nearly spun him out of his chair.  


“You don’t get to eat like a person, Faggot,” she said, then dumped the rest of his meal next to the pile already on the floor, tossing the bowl into the sink before walking back over to her mother who was already back to happily humming at the range. “I need to piss. Might as well feed you, too.”  


Jorge watched, horror not at all diminished by seeing this multiple times over the last three weeks, as his wife happily hunched low on her hands and knees, her colon nearly dangling to the floor, and slurp Nita’s long foreskin into her mouth. She sucked more of it until she could get her lips around the head as well, long-schooled not to use her hands, and had only a second to moan before Nita tilted her head back and sighed, fists on narrow hips.  


Watching her cheeks bulge over and over, her throat working constantly to keep up, her lips stretched wide around Nita’s fat shaft, Jorge couldn’t help but be jealous. _He_ wasn’t allowed the convenience of drinking straight from the tap. _He_ had to put a plastic tube in his mouth while she snugged the tip of her dick against the other end so she didn’t have to touch him.  


Cunt looked several months pregnant when Juanita was finally done, and she breathed hard through her nose as she sucked on her daughter’s dick while Nita ran a finger along her urethra to strain the last of it out in her mom’s mouth. The prostrate woman rubbed her swollen stomach and moaned, shuddering in a small orgasm, and a forceful splat landed between her legs as thick grool ejected from her womanhood with a heavy hitch of her hips.  


“Now hurry up with breakfast. I always have to eat last around you stupid sluts. It gets on my fucking nerves.”  


Jorge winced at the rough language, completely at odds coming from what looked like a sweet little girl to the unsuspecting, and got on his hands and knees to clean up the floor.  


He frowned at his lumpy, now cooling breakfast, the last... pile of cum he’d ever have to eat. His stomach rumbled in protest again.  


He lowered his mouth to the linoleum.  


* * * * *  


Jorge made his way down the stairs to answer the doorbell, ecstatic despite it coming half an hour later than he’d been told it would. He wore his house robe, the single concession to modesty Juanita had allowed while he was at home. Single-minded as she was, she was still wise enough to know she needed some representative from the nominally adult world for the household. Underneath, he still wore only the lacy women’s panties.  


As he descended the stairs, he was happy enough to hear the raping of his wife’s face had quieted down enough it couldn’t be heard past the closed bedroom door, but even better was the adrenaline of pending salvation. Every step down the stairs was like a step out of his own personal Hell. He took a deep breath and opened the door.  


Doctor Vanessa Vandeberg was nothing at all like he expected. Brusque and short as she’d been on the phone, her voice had sounded high and sweet, more impatiently distracted than harsh (if somewhat unprofessional, in his opinion). He’d pictured a busy middle-aged woman.  


She couldn’t be much older than thirty. Her youthful face was apple-cheeked, and he wasn’t expecting to have to look up to meet her brilliant blue eyes. She had honey colored hair pulled back in a utilitarian bun and was quite pretty. Her modest blouse could only hide her ample chest so well, and her long, loose skirt with sensible flats made her seem all the more professional.  


But it was her muscles that really put him off. Her shoulders were wider than his, and what he could see of her legs and forearms were striated with corded musculature. She looked down at him from the other side of the threshold and instantly a frown formed that turned her sweet face into a thunderhead.  


“Jorge Ramirez?”  


He nodded, his mouth slightly agape as he took her in.  


She scoffed and moved inside, her whole life’s experience giving her confidence he’d wilt out of her way without needing to be told. “Where’s my patient?”  


He closed the door and gawked at the amazonian Danish woman dominating his living room simply by standing there. He needn’t have answered because of an especially loud choking sound coming down from upstairs just then. She gave another sardonic scoff and shook her head in the direction of the sound. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” She turned her disapproving gaze to see him shaking his head. “Is that because I told you not to or because she never asked?”  


“Uh… She never—“  


“Too bad. We’ll have to see if you can follow my directions against hers then. I’m guessing that’s either her sister or her mother I’m hearing up there?”  


He swallowed a lump in his throat.  


She smiled cruelly at his difficulty answering. “Your wife then. I’d feel bad for your situation if it weren’t entirely your fault. You could have saved your daughter, saved your wife, and saved your own useless life from this path.” Now she sneered. “Pathetic.”  


He looked at his feet, struggling to summon the barest wisps of his former genial assertiveness. He found he could at least speak to the ground. “I-I-I don’t think it’s… I don’t think it’s pathetic that a man couldn’t… do those terrible things to his own child daughter.”  


He heard her inhale deeply and he cringed before he looked up to confirm her distaste in him. She tossed her head at the continued brutality she could hear upstairs. “No use in interrupting a rut before I’ve even started training her. Why don’t you and I have a little chat about ‘terrible things’ while we wait.”  


She walked into the kitchen as if it were her own home and he followed meekly at her heels, seating himself at the table.  


“Tea?” she asked with an arched eyebrow. He gestured to a cupboard and she placed the kettle on, then rummaged through more cupboards for sugar, a spoon, and a single cup.  


He sat at the table and stole glances at her back that was fairly broad for a woman and her much narrower waist, watching her anatomy ripple potently beneath her clothing. She moved like a dancer, or a martial artist, every extension of limb efficient and graceful. Though her skirt was loose, he could still see she had a large butt, and couldn’t help but entertain a brief daydream of her in a spray tan and thin bikini, flexing ridiculous muscles in even more ridiculous poses for a panel of judges.  


She ignored him as she prepared her tea, and only turned her head slightly to speak to him as she enjoyed her hot drink. “I was the first one in my country afflicted with SOH, twenty years ago. The very first of my kind. My native tongue doesn’t even have its own word for ‘hermaphrodite’, we had to borrow it just like English.” He was surprised, she had no trace of an accent. “There was no treatment that was known to work, then.”  


She was silent for so long, he thought perhaps he was supposed to be asking questions. Juanita had evidently moved on to plowing her mother, and Guadalupe’s grunting, enthusiastic vocalizations filtered into the kitchen from above them.  


“Do you know what kind of harem an unchecked, untreated virus can build over four years in a village of five hundred people?” She glared at him from the corner of her eye. “Any idea what kind of tyrant a child can become with that much unquestioned power? It took a small military operation to separate my village from me.”  


She turned back to her tea, still standing at the counter rather than join him at the table. “I increased the population there by more than twenty-five percent before I left. Uunngh,” she grunted oddly, her back straightening slightly. Now she did finally bring her steaming cup to the table. He shrank beneath her eagle’s glare.  


“You were going to let your daughter fall into such a terrible situation.” He shook his head, but she pressed on, disgusted with him. “You let that virus colonize your house. Next she would take over your neighborhood. She’d stop caring about any societal ties whatsoever. She’d fill every hole she came across before... Huunngh,” she winced, again her back straightening inexplicably as one eye squinted. “She’d take over her school, plant babies in every womb whether their owner’s were aware they were fertile or not. And you would all be slaves to her need. Uungh-God.” Wince. Back twitch.  


“Fuck.” She leaned down and he could shrink back from her no more. “You would have taken her childhood from her. Destroyed her humanity.” She drove a finger into his chest, digging it between his ribs, and he could only squirm as he met her electric blue eyes. “You are a worthless, neglecting, dog shit excuse for a parent, and you. Will. Pay for that.”  


He moaned, _mewled_ an apology. She straightened, her glare pinning him to his seat, and took a sip of her tea. “You’re going to start paying right now. Grab your seat, and don’t you dare let go until I say so.” Inexplicably compelled, his hands clenched at the edges of his chair, white-knuckled, and he swallowed audibly.  


With a clink, she set down her cup and stepped close to him, then with surgical precision, she slapped one hand between his legs to grasp the chair seat and another beside his head on the backrest, then set a foot at the back legs. With the easy leverage, she tipped him back. He fell with a jarring thud, rattling his teeth, but his grip kept him from bouncing backward.  


She shook her head when his robe fell back to reveal his panties. “Revolting. You make me want to puke. Did you ever truly call yourself a man?” She bent and grabbed his dick and balls in one hand, squeezing roughly, and it took all of him not to let go of the chair. “You ever thought of yourself as a father? How could you do _this_ to yourself?”  


She growled in frustration and then shocked him by bending at the waist to pull her skirt down her hips until it pooled at her ankles. She was indeed as muscular as he’d guessed, her thighs bulging with fascinating slabs of muscle, eclipsing any possibility of a thigh gap. A riotous bush of dark blonde pubic hair hid her vulva.  


“Please don’t hurt me,” he wheezed as images of her stepping on his genitals or crushing his skull between her thighs flashed through his mind.  


She snorted, a sneering twist to her lips made her smile all the more threatening. “You’ll be cleaning up a mess. I’m sure you’re used to it. It’s the least you can do to repay me for cleaning up _your_ mess.”  


She stepped out of each of her flats and over him to straddle him, and then time seemed to slow down. As her long, muscular leg stepped out over his torso, he got another look at where it met her pelvis. A hot, dense stone settled into his stomach as he realized he’d heard her mention of a cure for SOH earlier and mistakenly filled in the detail as it being something that was found later.  


Her pubic hair wasn’t hiding the outer lips of her womanhood, they were covering the angry, veiny cock tucked between her legs. As her undercarriage came to rest directly over his face, he could see her ass was indeed as enormous and sculpted as he’d suspected, and also that her cock disappeared between her pale cheeks.  


She squatted over him, his eyes going wide as one of her hands pinned his forehead down to balance. “Open your mouth.” Slowly he complied, hinging his jaw open humiliatingly wide. “Now pull my cock out.”  


He finally let go of his chair and, unable to look away from her glare, felt blindly at her underside, first getting a double handful of an ass he could bounce a coin off of, then finding the meaty shaft of her cock and wrapping his fingers around it as best he could.  


It pulsed, then, and her face became rigid as she grunted that same odd grunt, her back straightening, and he realized with a doomed horror what mess he was about to be cleaning up.  


“Pull it out, you worthless excuse for a man!”  


He tugged at the quarter-chub, stretching it in it’s mostly flaccid elasticity, and it began sliding. And sliding. And sliding. He went hand over hand twice, partly marveling at what he was feeling, partly screaming internally at the insanity of her size, until it popped out of her ass wetly. A surprisingly small bit of her girlcum squirted onto his neck, hot and thick.  


She reached back and gripped his balls again and this time his hands went involuntarily to her wrist, but it was obvious from her quick reposition that she’d merely wanted him to let go of her. She braced herself and rose a bit, letting her slick cockhead drag up along his face until it flopped over the top of his head and lay on the floor. It was only the beginning.  


Now she was more over the top half of his face, he could see there was more flesh still inside her. Her scrotum, pulled tautly into the habitually stretched ring of her asshole, had been hidden by her wide dick shaft. Now she was squatting and straining, her wide shitter flaring even wider, and an ostrich egg of a testicle crowned, stretched, and suddenly popped out to smash painfully into his adam’s apple and make him cough. It was quickly followed by the second which bounced with incredible mass against his chin. This time a considerably larger stream of her jizz sprayed out and plopped onto his robe with a noticeable weight.  


“Ahh,” she sighed, then reached down and collected her sack, scrubbing a soggy swathe over his face, coating him ear to ear in her slimy cum as she let them, too, droop over the top of his head. There was enough slack they rolled a bit to rest against his temples, so hot and dense they felt like two huge baked potatoes in a leather bag.  


Her asshole was blasted open almost as wide as his mouth, and she lowered it to meet him there, covering the top half of his face in sweating, greasy scrotum and the bottom half with her asshole. She settled much of her weight on him, yawning his jaw even wider, and her glutes rode on his cheeks like a couple of hams. Hams he was sure could collapse the bones of his skull in on themselves on a whim.  


“Hold on to your chair or your useless cock, I don’t care. But you better hope you know how to hold your breath.”  


Crushed beneath her, his jaw creaking under the pressure, he snorkled air into the restricted crannies as well as he could. Just before he expelled it in an impotent scream, he felt her asshole dilate even further, and then he was being filled.  


He’d thought Juanita’s cum was viscous. It felt like Vanessa was shitting entire jellyfish into his mouth. Salty, minty, coagulated cumwads of random size punched against his tongue and he had no time or ability to chew before swallowing them whole like the world’s most disgusting jello shot.  


“Eat it all!” she yelled, venting her revulsion and anger. “All of it, you stupid bitch!”  


He only kept up with the first couple waves of hot ejecta before becoming completely overwhelmed. They slopped over his chin, his nose, squeezed between their respective cheeks. He felt it pooling into his ears and draping over his throat like a necklace of poorly mixed pancake batter. He accidentally snorted some, his throat closed, it piled into his mouth and managed to squeeze out and pool over his eyes, running up his forehead and into his hairline.  


It was as he gurgled and cough-screamed helplessly, unknowingly gripping his own dick and balls as hard as Vanessa had and not even noticing it in his panic, that a composed Juanita investigated the cacophony in her kitchen.  


The little girl stood at the other end of the table, her head cocked to see what was going on, and an odd war of thoughts vied for supremacy in her mind.  


There was a stranger in her house. A large stranger. She found it hard to be worried about that when said stranger was so thoroughly showing her faggoty sperm donor how much he was worth. But it was a _stranger_ doing it rather than her, and that irked her in a way she didn’t recognize. For some reason, she wasn’t frightened of the fact somebody she didn’t know appeared to be suffocating her father with her enormous ass, nor indeed that her other muscles were equally enormous and obviously potent.  


It was with that annoyed confusion that Juanita spoke between pauses in the stranger’s angry invective aimed at her father.  


“His name is _Maricón_. Not Bitch.”  


Vanessa’s head cocked as she heard the little girl’s voice, and she slowly eased forward, her powerful thighs lifting her high over the gasping, wheezing, cum-slopped face of Jorge Ramirez. She looked down past her dangling genitals to see his head swimming in a yellowish sea of gummy jizz and nodded in satisfaction. The underside of her balls and up into her asscrack and down the insides of her thighs were now feeling the draft, also lubricated with her cum as they were, but it was a decent job of setting the tone. She turned to face her true adversary.  


_Oh,_ she thought with surprise. _Oh, my sweet girl._ Vanessa was quite sure she was the most tragically beautiful thing she’d ever seen.  


She would eventually make a gorgeous woman with that hair and those elegantly arched eyebrows—and a formidable one, judging by the steely look she managed. Vanessa knew how intimidating her frame was, and yet little Nita faced her with a bravery that was utterly impressive. The virus supplied dominating energy, territoriality, but that was far more often expressed through an animal craftiness such as might be seen by a lone wolf in a foreign pack’s territory. There was no cringing guardedness or preemptive displays of hostility, only cool contemplation of a new thing to consider.  


The girl was wearing a simple camisole over her flat torso and nothing else, her enormous cock and balls looking all the larger when compared to the little girl’s small stature. She was already most of the way to a foot long, which worried Vanessa and made her wonder if the virus had mutated to work faster in recent years or if Nita was just particularly susceptible to its influence. The penis was a particularly ugly thing, as ugly as the girl was pretty, with it’s wide head covered in a long, drooping foreskin and the middle inches of her long shaft quite visibly wider than the rest of it, all matched with a veiny, furious looking ballsack straining against testicles the size of lemons.  


It was a miracle she got to the girl before she’d branched out of her own home.  


“ _Maricón_ , is it?”  


Juanita nodded. “Not bitch. A bitch is a dog, and doggies are fun.” She glared at her father, still struggling beneath the large woman. “He’s just a faggot piece of shit.”  


“And you must be Juanita Ramirez.” She kept her voice neutral, not overly soft or kind as she might speak to a normal child. Juanita was hardly her first case of runaway SOH.  


She nodded again. “Everyone calls me Nita.” She frowned at that, as if questioning it as she said it. “Who are you?”  


_I’m you, you poor creature. I’m you without me._ “My name is Vanessa Vandeberg.” She left it at that.  


The two of them stared at each other for a few moments, Vanessa to give her time to assess the problem before her, Nita to figure out her next move. After a moment, the girl pointed at the mess between the doctor’s feet. “Why did you do that?”  


Vanessa looked down, then, sick of the draft on her wet flesh, bent to move Jorge’s hands off of his genitals. There was a small stain on his panties she couldn’t tell if it was piss or cum. Quickly and carelessly manhandling him, she eventually rolled him off the chair as she pulled the robe out from under him and he lay limply moaning on the floor, his face still partially resting in the cooling pool of cum. She used the back of the robe to calmly wipe as much of her own mess off herself as she could, then dropped it dismissively on top of Jorge.  


“I did that because he deserved it. I think you know that, even if you might not be able to say why.”  


Nita shrugged, then nodded in acquiescence. The girl still couldn’t figure out why there seemed to be two warring parts within her. Something about the woman put her back up, a bit she actually seemed to feel in her brain was warning her that this woman was a threat. But there was another side of her that was _agonizingly_ curious about the woman, wanted to explore Vanessa as if she were an adventuring billionaire sister she’d never known she had.  


When Juanita’s penis had first started growing, the doctor had explained what was happening to her. She’d explained that this happened to a few children, but was easily solved and her life would be back to normal soon as a little girl with all her little girl parts back where they should be. As far as Juanita knew, the huge lady in front of her shouldn’t be possible. The grown up woman with a long smooth cock, whose length rested just above her knee, and incredibly large balls that drooped almost as low.  


Was she going to become like this woman some day? And then a precocious thought percolated through her child’s brain: might this woman not be something to aspire toward?  


Vanessa let the little girl study her as she stepped back into the ring of her skirt, her feet again clad in her flats as she pulled her skirt up. Finally she faced her again. “You’ve been having sex with your mother, Nita?”  


The little girl’s countenance quickly darkened. “That’s my Cunt. I fuck my Cunt when I want.”  


_Hmm. Still in the second stage of possession, then. Thank goodness I only have one real target._ Vanessa made a neutral noise in her throat. “Mm. And you have sex with her vagina?”  


Nita’s glower intensified. “I fuck her however I want. She’s my Cunt.”  


If Vanessa had only waited a few more seconds, her question could have been answered without putting Juanita further on the defensive. Guadalupe staggered down the stairs, her hair once in a neat bun atop her head now a disheveled mess from being used as reins for her daughter’s blowjob. There was a bib of drying drool and cum on her chest, and large tracks of jizz down her legs, more of both hers and her daughter’s still freshly leaking as she made her way into the kitchen.  


“Oh, hello,” Lupe tried, her eyes drooping asymmetrically as she stood beside and behind her daughter. She leaned against the wall, her forearm above her head as if attempting some inebriated seduction, her brain too scrambled by brutal kiddie cock to remember what types of adult interactions were appropriate where.  


Vanessa looked at Lupe but watched Nita in her peripheral vision.  


The little girl was glaring at her, then at her mom. She walked behind her and full-arm slapped Lupe’s fleshy rump. “I need water, Cunt.”  


“Oh!” Lupe stumbled past Vanessa and into the kitchen to grab a glass, a child-sized hand print welting her left flank.  


_I’ll have to hurry, with her,_ Vanessa thought, considering the tottering mother. _She’s completely gone, and who knows how close she is to ovulating. That’s just a whole new batch of problems waiting to happen._  


The doctor turned back to the angry girl. “I’m glad I met you today, Nita. I’ll be going now.” She didn’t bother addressing the two supposed adults in the house. They’d clearly ceded their authority and wits to the girl already.  


She brushed past Juanita and only stopped at the door when the grade-schooler asked, “why were you here? Who are you?”  


She studied her suspicious, unwitting patient for a few moments, the closest thing she could get to a proper examination at this early stage of her method. _So much potential as a strong woman wasted. Well, I’ll do my best to give her the best life she can have, now._ Out loud, she simply said, “I’ll be seeing you soon.”  


The door closed and Lupe piped up, having been studying her husband’s destroyed visage. “Is he dead?”  


Nita wasn’t listening. She was busily examining that odd war between wariness and interest galloping within her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes writing doesn't cooperate. I've been sitting on this for a month and a half trying to reroute some things for future ideas and this was the only thing that seemed to work of all the attempts, and even this one didn't head where I thought it would. As usual, this was edited by Jayslab.
> 
> I promise I won't wait another year to update this story with the next chapter...

**Author's Note:**

> Jayslab did a fantastic job with his own take on the idea. Go have a gander!


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